Some more thoughts...

“There cannot be authentic solidarity with the poor if one is not friends with them. Behind “the poor” are concrete persons who know joys and sufferings, who know of marginalizations, but also know of hope.” – Gustavo Guttierrez, O.P.

After three and a half weeks out in the rural Dominican countryside, I returned to busy, hot, Santo Domingo for two crazy days of preparing, organizing and meetings before getting on a plane to the States early tomorrow morning.
My time in a rural Dominican home and then in a small town just 3 miles from the Haitian border proved to be reflective and fruitful, not to mention a cool break from the heat wave in the capital. Below are some journal excerpts from my time in a homestay in the small Dominican village of Pinal de la Cana. I’m still fresh off my stay in Hondo Valle where I was able to learn more about the border Haitian immigrant experience from those who know it best. Many beautiful moments passed sitting in homes tasting rich, fresh coffee and sharing with Haitians about what it’s like to be away from home and seeking acceptance in another culture. I hope to be able to share more of the stories and reflections from my time in Hondo Valle when life slows down a bit. For now, just a couple of pictures and hopes that I’ll be sharing with some of you in person during my travels in the States over the next few weeks. I’m looking forward to it all… (and there's more to come...)

August 25, 2006
The fire is warm against the backdrop of the cool night air. Sitting in the outdoor kitchen made of wooden walls and a roof of palm leaves, boiling water for sweet ginger tea, the irony is fierce. In the background to one side is the catchy tune announcing yet another Spanish language “novella” (soap opera). To the other side the distant bum ba bum of a popular bachata song being played at full volume from a radio.
I am in the community of Pinal de la Cana in rural mid-western DR 15 miles from the Haitian border – a community of about 150 people that has just been “enlightened”. When I first visited two months ago, there were only light poles and promises from campaigning politicians of electricity to come. Now I’m here to stay for a week and a half and the one thick black cable newly strung through the community shows signs that’s it’s here to stay for good.
I’m in one of a couple houses in the community to have secured a television – a privilege that I, personally, would happily rescind. An extended family that one month ago was gathered around the kitchen fire is now absorbed in the love lives and tragedies of overly made-up novella stars. From afar, I hear the 11 year old in the house singing and even talking along to every ad on TV, forcing me to think “is this what “progress” and “development” are all about?!? Welcome to the age of enlightenment…

August 30, 2006
The spirit of abundance…
…“We may not have money at times, but we’ll never go hungry. Here we live off of the land. In the capital, if you don’t have money, you don’t eat.” This is a common conversation I have with the older generation here who seem to truly appreciate the land that they live and work off of on a daily basis…On the day the hurricane blew through, it was amazing to sit in the kitchen and watch the “runners” – the kids dashing out in the rain delivery plates of food amongst their large extended family. “This type of weather makes you hungry!” she kept saying to me, although I couldn’t imagine being very hungry knowing that I was going to move a total of about 15 ft. all day between the rain and the mud.
When I went from the kitchen back to the house, I realized that my host mother was not the only one who decided to spend the day of horrible weather cooking for the entire family around the warm fire. Sitting on the table were two more plates of rice and beans that had been run over to me from neighbor’s houses. I love the community spirit of food – knowing both that there will always be enough (in my case more than enough) and that nothing will ever be wasted. Three plates of rice and beans may be a little too much for me, but at least there’s always someone willing to finish what I can’t.